


Not an exclamation mark, but a colon.

by Jicklet



Category: One Day at a Time (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Light BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 14:04:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18095765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jicklet/pseuds/Jicklet
Summary: Penelope threatens to tie Schneider to a chair.It's a joke, until it isn't.





	Not an exclamation mark, but a colon.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Accidentally, Or By Fate Designed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17989703) by [WittyWallflower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WittyWallflower/pseuds/WittyWallflower). 



“Penelope!” Schneider's voice on the other end of the line was shrill. _“Help!”_

“Shhhnrrdrrr…” Penelope mumbled. “‘alm down.” The rest of her family was out, the apartment was blissfully quiet, and until his call she’d been in the middle of a pleasant couch snooze that had full-on couch nap potential.

“Pen, I stepped on a bee!”

She paused mid-yawn. “Wait, what?”

“I don't even know how it got up here, this is the 5th floor!”

Her nurse instincts shot her wide awake. “Are you okay? You're not allergic, are you?”

“I don't know!” She rolled her eyes, panic ebbing. It couldn’t be that bad if he was still being this dramatic. “Well, no, I'm not allergic. But can you come help anyway? I don't know if the stinger's still in there, I'm afraid to look.”

Making sure her sigh was deep enough that he could hear, she put down her magazine and rolled off the couch. “I'll be right up.”

* * *

“Schneider?”

“Over here!” He was atop a chair, feet drawn off the floor like a 50s housewife afraid of a mouse.

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Is the monster still here?”

He pointed. “It gave its life to try to take me down!”

She nodded, bending close as though it could still hear her. “Try harder next time.”

Schneider _harrumphed,_ crossing his arms. She laughed.

Penelope hummed Taps solemnly as she scooped up the little bee corpse and dumped it into the trash can.

“Well, there he goes. Looks like he actually managed to hold onto his stinger, but I'll still take a look at that foot, just in case.”

* * *

The sting had broken skin, but otherwise didn't look bad. She set about disinfecting and bandaging it properly anyway; she was still a nurse, and more importantly, someone who knew Schneider well enough to know he'd enjoy being fussed over.

The one thing she hadn't counted on was Schneider being _absurdly ticklish._

“Quit squirming, you big baby.”

“ _Hahaha--_ I can't help it!”

“ _Ay--”_ She grabbed his ankle in a firmer grip. “Stop moving, or I'll tie you to this chair and _make_ you behave.”

An intake of breath and Schneider went still.

Pleased, she finished wrapping up the bandage, when she realized he was a little… _too_ still.

Penelope looked up to see him frozen in place. _Huh._ She cocked her head quizzically, taking in the way he was biting his lip and staring towards nothing with entirely too much determination.

“What's up with-- _”_  What she’d just said slammed back into focus with new context. “ _…oh.”_

“Wait--” His too-wide eyes were the only part of him to shift her way.

Flustered, she stood up, holding up her hands. “Hey, I didn't mean--”

“No! No. Nothing! I know. What?” He forced a high pitched laugh through his nonsense babble. She snorted, a grin starting to spread across her face despite herself. _“What?_ Shut up!”

A snicker burst out of her. He was just so _defensive._ And, okay, maybe she was a little mean. “Oh my _god_ ,” Penelope forgot her own embarrassment at the smell of blood in the water. “You're _into_ that.”

 _“What???_ No, _you’re_ into it!” He seemed to realize that didn’t make things better. “Actually, what are you talking about, I don't even know.”

“You totally are, oh my god! You'd love it if someone just, tied you up and--” she giggled, gesturing vaguely at him--“did what they will with you.”

She’d hit the mark. A flush spread across his cheeks as he pouted. “Stop kink-shaming me!”

“Hey, hey.” She held her hands up. Riling him up was fun, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bad at how she’d managed to embarrass the man she's long believed immune to shame. “No judgement. I mean…” She weighed her options. Maybe it would make things less awkward if she leveled the playing field.

“Wanna know a secret?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, not sure where this was going.

“Max was… _really_ into being told what to do.”

“Oh.” His mouth fell into a perfect _O_ of surprise as he reevaluated a few things. _“Reee_ ally?”

“Yep.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth, grin spreading wide at the memory. “And I… was really into tellin’ him.”

He swallowed. Her lips parted just a little, watching him react. An answering warmth slid down her belly. _Oh._

He cleared his throat. “G-good for you, girl!”

He was trying to play it off.

She should let him.

She glanced towards the door. The door she really should leave through.

_But didn’t she deserve one bad decision, once in a while?_

“Schneider.”

“Penelope?”

His voice was higher than normal. She sighed. “Stop freaking out.”

“Who’s freaking out? I’m not freaking out.”

She rolled her eyes fondly. “Look… I don’t have anywhere to be. Do you?”

He blinked. “No?”

“Then, if you want me to leave, tell me to leave.” She walked slowly to the door, her nervous heart calming just a bit at the sight of him leaning unconsciously after her. “But if you’d rather, I could stay here, and…” She placed her hand on the deadbolt. “…lock this?”

She saw it sink in. With a small smile that was equal parts shock, confusion, and excitement, he nodded.

She twisted the lock into place.

His wide eyes were still focused on her. Waiting to follow her lead.

Slowly, deliberately, she walked back towards him, until she was in position to lean forward onto the arms of his chair. He must have had a nice view down her tank top, but to his credit, his eyes only fell down and lingered for a quick moment -- before they shot back up to her face, questioning. It wasn’t exactly something she’d encouraged even ten minutes ago. “It's okay, Schneider,” she drawled, standing back up. Lazily, she dragged just the tips of her fingers along his chest, walking around to his back. Her hands settled lightly on his shoulders. “Let’s have some _fun.”_ Gripping suddenly, she pulled him back into the chair.

He rewarded her with a little gasp, his lips parting. Damn, if that didn’t feel good. He was so reactive.

“Pen…” the hoarseness of his voice on his nickname for her shot straight between her thighs. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Penelope, I don't really know what's going on, but so we're clear…”

Her heart thudded uncertainly.

“...I am down for whatever it is you want to do to me.” And he turned to her with a smile she hadn't seen him direct her way in years.

Wasn't he supposed to be the one to actually use his air conditioning? How was it so warm in here? _“Whatever_ I want to do to you?” she laughed, surprised to find herself breathless. “That sounds… dangerous.”

“Well, no _murder--_ ” (she choked on a laugh) “--Sometimes I do feel like that's on the table! So I just wanna get that out of the way.  
“But hey, if you did want to _literally_ tie me to this chair…” with what Penelope felt was far too much casualness, he gestured towards his workbench. “There's rope in that drawer.”

Her eyes shot wide. _Oh???_

He was still talking. “If you just want to make out a little, I'd be down too. Honestly, I don't know what's happening here, but… I know I wanna find out.” He was relaxed in the chair, grinning at her in that Schneidery way that told her whatever she did, he was still Schneider, and she was still Penelope. He wasn’t going to be scared off.

She focused on slowing her breathing, a little thrown off by how direct he'd gotten. Usually she jumped into the action and put off talking until there wasn’t a better option.

It turns out talking could be necessary beforehand too. Who knew?

“Can I tell you something?”

The Look intensified. Like, _hey it's still me._

Yeah, he had seen a lot worse from her. Still, as she took a breath to steel herself, she pulled her hands up to her mouth to hide, just a little. “I'm kinda nervous."

“Hey,” he reached out, pulling a hand away from her face and squeezing it gently. “No worries boo, I got you. If you want, we can take it down to Netflix and cuddle. Like actual cuddle, I do have this big-ass TV going to waste.”

She snorted. “That thing _is_ ridiculous.” Why she even bothered sneaking snacks into the movie theater when that monster was just upstairs was a real question.

She looked down to where their hands intertwined. His much bigger thumb rubbed her fingers gently. “I don't know how far I want this to go yet. I'm tired of planning. Can we just… see where this goes?”

“Absolutely.” He replied without hesitation.

She felt flushed. It was kind of getting hard to look at him, which was weird, because, _Schneider._

Abruptly, she pulled her hand out of his and walked off towards the workbench he’d indicated. “You really keep rope in here?”

“Well, a lot are for my projects. But--Yeah, third drawer down. Towards the bottom? The white one.”

It turned out the whole freaking drawer was full of rope, all wrapped tightly so they wouldn’t tangle. And sure, most could be written off for handyman reasons or whatever, but beneath it all… she pulled out a silky white rope that did _not_ seem Home Depot standard.

It felt nice. Idly, she wondered how much something like this cost, and if it was more than a generic pair of handcuffs on Amazon. Testingly, she pulled it between her hands, running her fingers along the strands as she sauntered back towards him. He had turned his head to watch her, but otherwise was sitting up much straighter in the chair than normal, waiting for her.

_Oh. Good boy._

His arms flexed, and she realized he had actually begun holding his hands behind the chair, gripping the back of it. _Fuck._

“Anything else I should know, before we start?” he asked.

“Huh?” she asked, thrown off. “Oh, I'm not on birth control. You have condoms? IF, we get there,” she hastened to add.

“Definitely (that drawer, over there. And again, no pressure), but I meant more like. Any hard ‘No’s?”

“Oh.” Seriously, after the big game she’d talked to her kids about consent, she _really_ wasn't used to all this talking. It was uncharted territory, but…not bad. “I… don't like being held down.” There, that was something.

“Gotcha. I will leave that to you, then.” He winked.

“What about you?”

“Oh!” Somehow, it was like he hasn't expected her to return the favor. “Well, again… blood. ” She blanched. “Yeah, just want to get that one straight off the table. And…” He hesitated, and she nodded for him to continue. “Insulting me is fine, but uhh…” his eyes darted away, though his voice stayed light. “Can we leave family stuff off limits?”

 _Oh._ She hadn’t expected that. What the hell kind of jerks had he had over here? (She remembered Nikki. That… explained a lot, actually.)

“Hey, Schneider, I wouldn't do that to you.” Her tone softening, she reached out and cupped his face. “Do you trust me?”

And she saw in his eyes and that bright, guileless smile that he did. “Of course I do.”

She dropped the rope and kissed him.

As first kisses go, it was _very_ nice. Surprisingly soft, considering how this whole thing started. But she was kissing her best friend, and whatever came next, she wanted him to know she would take care of him.

He let her set the pace, waiting to see which lines she wanted to cross. And she was happy to keep it slow at first, long minutes of gentle exploration like they were teenagers, giving her time to decide _am I really doing this?_

Soon enough, the question was lost. Her hands slid into his hair _\--ugh, the gel--_ before running down his neck to pull him closer.

He sighed, and she could feel the tension in his shoulders from holding himself back. What would it take to make him break that control?

When she scraped her teeth along his bottom lip, he let out a little whimper that she turned into an opportunity to slide her tongue in alongside his.

With a groan, his hands finally left the chair to grab her hips. _“Penelope…”_

With his hands on her, she could admit to herself the existence of those dark nights where she'd thought about his large hands and long fingers and what they could do to her. The reality of them digging into her was _amazing…_ but, she remembered, that wasn't the game tonight.

Firmly, she gripped his wrists, pulling them off of her. “Did I say you could touch me?” She softened the edge on her words by rubbing her thumbs along the inside of his wrists.

The look on his face was busted, but not at all sorry. “No ma'am, you did not.”

It occurred to her he might've broken intentionally to move things along. _Well._ “If you can't _behave_ … We might need this after all.” She retrieved the rope from where she'd abandoned it.

There was not even an attempt to hide the grin that spread across his face. “Oh _noooo.”_

Of _course_ Schneider would be a brat about it. She rolled her eyes and smacked him across the shoulder with the bundle. _“Ay,_ stop looking so pleased.”

His face immediately smoothed out into an overly solemn expression, and she found herself cracking up again. It made sense, didn't it? There was so much laughter in almost every other interaction she had with the man, why should it be any different in the bedroom?

(Okay, they were still in the parlor. But the point stood.)

“You’re ridiculous,” she said fondly, running her thumb along his lower lip.

He sucked the tip of her finger into his mouth for a quick second before releasing it with a wink. “Come on, Pen. You just gonna keep teasing me forever?”

Okay, fair. He had been good. It was time to move things along.

Her eyes traced his body, planning her next move.

“Let's get this off.” She tugged at the hem of his shirt.

“Knew you couldn’t resist my sick abs forever,” he bragged. Slipping his glasses off and setting them on a side table, he turned and raised his arms obligingly.

But when the shirt was halfway over his head, she stopped, twisting the fabric tight.

“…Pen?”

The tee had become both blindfold and restraint, and she watched as the muscles of his arms strained testingly at the fabric that held them. A small smile tugged unconsciously at the corner of his mouth.

“Now _there’s_ a good look,” she breathed, drinking him in. With no one's eyes around to judge, she finally allowed herself to properly appreciate his body for the first time.

He must really work out, she thought. Wonder what he still did after he had to give up on spinning. There were probably push-ups involved, and… lifting shit… And..sweating……

Without thinking about it, she reached out to run her free hand along his chest.

“You feelin’ me up, boo? Pervy.”

“Oh, shut up,” she shoved at his pec playfully. Maybe it turned into a squeeze, sue her.

“You’re right,” commented the man she had tied up in his own shirt. “I think that ship has sailed.”

She snorted despite herself. _Ugh._ If he still had brainpower enough left for quipping, she was clearly doing something wrong.

She yanked his head back--enough to surprise, but not enough to hurt--and his breath caught. _“Ah-!”_

She leaned in close, wondering how well he could tell where she was. He strained forward, seeking her lips, but she pulled his head back again. “Ah _ah.”_

 _“Ugh,_ I should’ve known you’d be mean.”

“Mean? You haven’t even seen mean yet.”

“Promises, promises.”

She dropped into his lap.

“Fuck,” he said plainly, hips jerking up into her. She was pleased (heh) to feel how much he was enjoying this already, but then again, she'd barely gotten started.

“I'm going to remove the shirt. You can put your hands on me, but you can't move them.”

As the shirt came free, he flexed his arms and blinked his way into a baffled expression. “Huh?”

“Choose wisely.”

Bemused, he placed his hands on her hips, wrapping them around to squeeze her ass. “Hey, girl.” Inches away, with no glasses between them, he grinned down at her.

(For just a second, her breath caught.)

Then she smirked. “Ok, now _stay.”_

And with that, she reached behind herself for the rope.

The next few minutes were spent tying him securely to the chair as best she could from where she was sitting. It wasn't the most convenient position, but _oh,_ did it have its perks. She had to lean well up against him, and the way she kept moving back and forth quickly took him from half hard to full.

 _She_ was enjoying herself thoroughly. _He_ was…

 _“Jesus Christ,”_  Schneider hissed, fingers digging into her hips like a man drowning.

“I said no moving,” Penelope admonished with a light smack on his chin, giving another wriggle for good measure.

He groaned loudly, head falling back. “I am going to die. This is actually the end.”

“You're so dramatic.” She took advantage of the new view to suck on his neck.

 _“Fuuhuhuhuck-”_ His hips jerked upwards… and she lifted off him, as she had each and every time he'd tried. He couldn't get enough leverage to stop her.

Her grin was wicked, he looked as though he might actually cry.

“Pen, _please_ , I specifically said no murder-- _heyhey_ wait _,_ where are you _going???”_

She'd pulled herself out from under his hands and off of his lap completely. “Gotta tie this off, I can't reach from here,” she replied sweetly, as if it should have been obvious.

He gave her such a look of betrayal that she finally felt bad for him. Softening, she ran her hand through his hair and whispered, _“Yellow light?”_

 _“Green. So green.”_ He winked, and she smirked and tugged on his hair. _"Hhhhe_ eyy…” he managed.

Oh, this was going to be a very good night.

**Author's Note:**

> This started as "hrm Schneider tied up: good" and then began to turn into more of a character exploration of Penelope than I expected, but then we got back to the important themes so thank goodness. 
> 
> Disclaimer that I don't think Pen is the type to actually be knowledgeable about the proper ways to use rope. Pls dom your rugged hipsters responsibly.


End file.
